In this past week’s sermon, Father said that some psychology report said there is two kinds of people: those that are pawns and those that are originators. Pawns feel like everything happens to them. They are swept up in the sea of confusion, despair, sorrow, etc. Originators, on the other hand, believe that all that happens originates from themselves. I’ve been in bed for the past hour thinking about this. Am I a pawn or an originator?
I decided I used to be an originator but I have become a pawn. I used to despise any pity. I’ve seen this trait among other orphans. Many of my friends from college on never even knew I was orphaned. I didn’t discuss it. I changed the subject or in some way avoided the conversation. I didn’t want anyone to pity me. When I became homeless for awhile in college I didn’t even tell my family. One of the three jobs I had was at the college radio stations and I happened to have a key. I would go in at night where I had a sleeping bag in a box under my desk and slept on the floor until the morning announcer, who was a friend, came in and woke me up. I would be up and gone before anyone else arrived at work. The point is my goal was to graduate college and I was going to do it myself by any means necessary and I did. When I became pregnant I told no one but the father. I miscarried while living in my sorority house which is how a few found out. Actually my roommate had found out before that, told the father I wasn’t pregnant because she wanted my life for some dumb reason which included having him, so I told him I was fine on my own that I would move back in with my grandparents at the end of the semester. So when I called to tell him it was over I had a breakdown and a sister heard and came in to comfort me. That is how several came to know plus the sister who covered for me at one of my jobs. I guess the point to all that is that I was strong and independent.
However, I think the miscarriage is, also, the reason I have become a pawn. There is nothing that compares to a bond that a parent has with their child. When the parent is gone a piece of the child is gone. They feel incomplete as a person, as a soul. But for the few months I was pregnant I felt whole. It sucked that I was 19, unmarried and only in my second year of college but I didn’t care. I was ready for the responsibility no matter what because I felt complete again. After my loss, it took me years to look at a baby without crying. To this day I think this year she would be in kindergarten, this year she would be in jr. high, this year she would have graduated and now she would be in college or traveling the world. True she could also work at the 7-11 and date a loser but it is my fantasy so I go for the really good stuff.
I was ok waiting for another child and completing college but the older I got the more I ached. There is a loneliness in my soul that hasn’t felt comfort in so long. Infertility is a pawns game. You can take the drugs, drink the tea, yoga your butt off, get the acupuncture, workout, meditate, howl at the moon but ultimately it is not your choice. I played the game I was given and can’t help but feel I lost. I want the old me back. The one that still believed the darkness wouldn’t swallow her so slowly that she couldn’t find her way back. I know I will be delighted beyond belief to adopt but a part of me still longs to see my father’s eyes wink at me or my mom’s nose sneeze a tiny sneeze. I waited to adopt because I wanted to make sure that they got the best me. While I was searching for the best me the time slipped away. I am out of time. I have to find the originator and take the leap of faith that the me I am today, as incomplete and imperfect as that is, will be enough.
What about you? Pawn? Originator? Just realized today is 1/11/11. That is kind of fun. :-)